Her first friend
by Cath Stark
Summary: What Dad used to say? Don't trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain. But she still felt curious at the kind words the diary had written to her.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

 **Her first friend**

Ginny had found the diary between her books, back at the Burrow. It was a small diary with a hard tape made of leather that had someone's name on the first page, but she didn't really mind. She supposed it was a gift from Mum and Dad as a way of congratulating her for her first year at Hogwarts. And she was used to second-hand.

She was on her bed, curtains closed to give her some privacy when she began to write.

She started quite simple. "Dear diary: My name's Ginny Weasley. I'm already old enough to keep you! Today Fred and George told me I was going to have some sort of test to prove I was worthy of the Gryffindor House, otherwise, I would get kicked. They said I needed to face something, but it wasn't true. I knew it!"

She kept writing, still amazed to finally be at Hogwarts, but then her almost finished page went empty, the words she had written sinking into the paper.

"Hello, dear Ginny," it said. Ginny kept staring at the words, her first thought going to her brothers. Did possibly Fred and George hex the diary? Maybe they put a spell on it so they could read her secrets later? Before she could think of any other way to explain this, another sentence appeared. "I am really sorry to interrupt your lovely writing, but I cannot be kept in silence while you do so. I wanted to reveal my presence to you."

Ginny stared at the elegant writing, still unsure of what to do. What Dad used to say? Don't trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain. But she still felt curious at the kind words the diary had written to her. Her brothers weren't certainly that charming.

"Hello," she wrote back, a bit conscious of her handwriting. "Who are you?"

The words began to disappear as new, elegant ones replaced them. "I am Tom Riddle, dear; as I am sure you have read in my diary."

Ginny thought of the boy's name written on the front page of the diary. _T. M. Riddle._ "I did," she wrote back and she found herself smiling shyly as she continued, "My name's Ginny Weasley." She remembered some of her mother's constant manners reminders and added, "It's a pleasure."

"Pleasure is all mine," the boy wrote back. "I have been trapped here for so long, Ginny. You cannot imagine how relieved I felt when you came."

Ginny blushed and giggled. How charming this young boy was! But she still felt curious. "Can I ask you to explain to me what you mean?" she asked, hoping it wouldn't be too rude.

"Why, dear Ginny, I can explain you that. I was trapped here for a long, long time, as I have told you. I had this diary as a student so I could keep a record of my years at Hogwarts, but I am afraid I cannot explain _how_ I ended up here. I confess I do not remember. It was a very normal day. I used to carry my diary with me all the time and I was alone when I thought I heard someone call my name. When I turned back… I saw nothing, just nothing. And I ended up here. I have been here around fifty years."

Ginny gasped and took her quill. "Oh, I'm very sorry!"

The words disappeared and Ginny stared at the yellow, crumpled paper, admiring his elegant handwriting. "I thank you for your sympathy, dear Ginny. I am glad you are the very first person I talk to after years of loneliness."

Ginny, flushed, wrote back, "I'm glad you don't feel alone anymore. Could I call you Tom?"

"Why, yes, dear. I assume Ginny is not really your name, is it?"

"No, it's a nickname. My name's actually Ginevra, but I don't really like it."

"Ginevra is a beautiful name. May I ask you why?"

She could feel her cheeks burning. "Mum only uses my full name when she gets angry and scolds me."

"I assure you, darling: it is one of the most beautiful names I have ever heard. Would you mind if I use it? It fills me with delight."

Ginny sighed dreamily, her cheeks as red as her hair. Oh! How charming and kind Tom was!

"I don't mind, Tom, but with one condition," she wrote shyly.

Her own words were replaced. "Which condition, dear?"

She bit her lip and with a sigh, she wrote back, "Would you be my friend?"

The page went empty again, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of herself as being too daring… but then, elegant words started to appear. "Why, of course, I would. I would love to call you my dear friend, Ginevra."

"Oh, thank you, Tom!" With a sigh of relief, Ginny smiled, pleased with herself. She had made her very first friend, and she felt already comfortable and happy.


End file.
